


The Christmas Truce

by dotchan



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen, Humor, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-29 23:23:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8509591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotchan/pseuds/dotchan
Summary: Some traditions have the power to cross even the most hostile of boundaries.Written in 2009.





	

It was too fucking cold to be outside even shivering, much less trying to hold a stupid control point that didn’t mean anything. And though he had no idea what the date was the Scout just knew that the Announcer was making him, and everyone else, miss Christmas to play pretend war with the other team.

“Control point activated. Now move!”

Scout obeyed, out of habit, his body doing most of the work for him. He was still seething, upset that they weren’t allowed to do anything. No decorations, no eggnog, no Christmas tree, and of course no presents, not even from his Ma.

It wasn’t fair. And the more the Scout thought about it, the madder he got.

By the time he made it to the control point, he was ready to give up.

So he did.

“Go ahead and take the point,” he told the other Scout, showing him his empty hands. “I don’t care. I’m sick of all this cold, and it’s going to be Christmas soon besides. I just want to get some hot chocolate and watch Charlie Brown and toast marshmallows in front of the fire.”

The enemy watched him with skeptical eyes, but the Scout didn’t move from his spot. Meanwhile, the others were catching up, and he could hear them urging him onward.

The Scout panicked for a moment, but then he had an idea. He cleared his throat, drew in a deep breath, and began to sing at the top of his lungs.

“JINGLE BELLS! BATMAN SMELLS! ROBIN LAID AN EGG!”

On autopilot, the other Scout joined in, too surprised to do anything else.

“BATMOBILE LOST A WHEEL AND JOKER GOT AWAY, HEY!”

The two teams crowded around the control point, staring at the two boys and wondering what had gotten into them.

“BATMAN IN THE KITCHEN, ROBIN IN THE HALL, JOKER’S IN THE BATHROOM, PEEING ON THE WALL!” With just a short pause for breath, the Scout segued right into the next song: “RUDOLF THE RED NOSED REINDEER (REINDEER) HAD A VERY SHINY NOSE!”

“LIGHT A LIGHT BULB!” One of the Engineers could be heard chiming in from somewhere, before clapping a horrified hand over his mouth.

The other Scout had lowered his weapon at this point. He hooked elbows with the Scout, both of them grinning like idiots. “AND IF YOU EVER SAW HIM (SAW HIM), YOU WOULD SAY IT REALLY GLOWS.”

“LIKE A LIGHTBULB!” The Soldiers barked in unison this time, their expressions unreadable.

The Scout whipped out his bat and pretended it was a microphone. “ALL OF THE OTHER REINDEER (REINDEER), USED TO LAUGH AND CALL HIM NAMES!”

They pointed to audience, and someone chimed in: “LIKE PINOCCHIO!”

“THEY WOULDN’T LET POOR RUDOLF (RUDOLF) JOIN IN ANY REINDEER GAMES!”

“LIKE MONOPOLY,” the Announcer (of all people!) boomed from the overhead speakers.

As if on cue, the both teams joined in at the same time: “THEN ONE FOGGY CHRISTMAS EVE, SANTA CAME TO SAY—”

“HO HO HO!” The Heavies bellowed, jiggling their stomachs in imitation of Santa.

Bits of snow could be seen falling from the parts of the buildings that shook from the singing. “RUDOLF WITH YOUR NOSE SO BRIGHT, WON’T YOU GUIDE MY SLEIGH TONIGHT?”

The Scout was flushed bright red from the effort of the singing, and his voice was cracking, but he just kept going: “THEN ALL THE REINDEER LOVED HIM (LOVED HIM), AND THEY SHOUTED OUT WITH GLEE!”

“YIPPEE!” Came the collective yell.

The Scouts sang the last verse together, sharing the “microphone”: “RUDOLF THE RED NOSED REINDEER (REINDEER), YOU’LL GO DOWN IN HISTORY—!”

Panting with effort, the Scout let his hands drop, the bat clattering to the ground.

“Merry Christmas, chuckleheads,” he forced out with the last of his voice. His throat was going to be so sore tomorrow, he just knew it.

“Yeah, well—” the Other Scout was holding something behind his back. “Catch!”

Scout had enough presence of mind to duck, and the snowball splattered onto the Medic instead.

That year’s Christmas, and every Christmas after, the Announcer made sure to suspend all hostilities on account of the inevitable horrible singing and the even more inevitable snowball fight.


End file.
